


The Red String of Fate Woven From A Ladybug's Wings

by mikoriin



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 19th century AU, F/M, Seamstress AU, Seamstress Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-07-10 13:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19906675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikoriin/pseuds/mikoriin
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is hired by Chloe Bourgeois to be her live-in seamstress. Marinette finds out that the esteemed Gabriel Agreste is throwing a series of masquerade balls for his son, Adrien, and every unmarried woman is invited, like something out of a fairy tale. Marinette, ordered by her boss not go attend, sneaks into the Agreste estate to find inspiration for future gowns. However, she finds herself dancing with a mysterious stranger in black. Would this man be worth the risk to come back to these parties?





	1. Chapter 1

Marinette winced as her finger got caught on the needle of the sewing machine, licking what little blood may escape her wound. After realizing her finger was okay, she went back to sewing. She began to hum a melodic tune as she mended the fabric in her hands into sections of a dress. The room was filled with a rainbow of colors, rolls of fabric scattered around shelves and the single bed by the window accompanied by the noise of the sewing machine filling the cluttered room.

“DUPAIN-CHENG!” A piercing screech cut through Marinette’s ears.

The seamstress ceased her work, making way across her room to the door. She opened it, only to be greeted by more screaming.

“DUPAIN- **CHENG**!!”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming,” Marinette whispered as she readjusted the messy bun atop her head. 

Briskly making her way down the hallways of the mansion to the foyer. Marinette entered the room, putting on her best smile and bowed. “Yes, Mademoiselle Bourgeois?”

“Oh, finally! Tell me, what is this _tacky_ rhinestone doing on the front of my bag?” Mademoiselle Chloe Bourgeois pointed out.

Marinette examined the bag. The rhinestone truly had no place being there. She looked back at Chloe. “Pardon me, Mistress, but I didn’t design your bag.”

“What?” Chloe wrinkled her nose. “Aren’t you the one who designs and makes all of my clothes? That’s what you were _hired_ for.”

“Yes, you hired me to make your clothes, and I _did_ make the dress, but-” She was cut off.

“But WHAT? I’m going to a special political dinner! there’s going to be many important people there, including my Adrikins! I have to look stunning but this bag is throwing off my whole attire!”

“Um, Chloe?” Sabrina, Chloe’s best friend, “If I remember correctly, you commissioned Monsieur Brodeur to make you that bag to go with your dress.” She smiled and pushed up her large, round glasses.

“Did I?” Chloe crossed her arms, giving Sabrina a snooty tone. “Well then, Dupain-Cheng, take this awful bag and do something with it. Sabrina, make sure I never commission Monsieur Brodeur again.”

Sabrina nodded, jotting down Chloe’s request in her little notebook that she always carried around...Marinette felt sympathy towards the girl. Sabrina was always doing Chloe’s dirty work. She turned to Marinette still standing. “Why are you still here?” She snapped with just as much snob as Chloe used on everyone else.

Yes, Marinette felt bad...Until Sabrina talked to her as if she was somehow above the seamstress. _‘We’re both Chloe’s servants’_ she thought to herself as she made her way back up the stairs, Chloe’s comments about the incompetence of her workers growing fainter. She stepped into her tiny bedroom which was tucked into a far corner of the house. Carefully and cautiously, Marinette tip-toed around the supplies scattered along her floor.. She glared at the bag. “I can’t believe she dumped this onto me! I didn’t even make it!” Tossing the bag to the side, she decided she would fix it later.

She sat back at her desk where she usually spent her nights hunched over drawing. She couldn’t help but reminisce about her life before becoming a seamstress. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the daughter of two bakers, Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng. Her father was a simple Frenchman, dedicated to his work, while her mother was a Chinese immigrant who came to France in search of a new life. The two fell in love in the summer of 1860 and eventually had Marinette. The girl was raised around buns, baguettes, and croissants; bread was her life. But Marinette had other dreams: she wanted to design clothes and be a seamstress. She never thought this dream would come true, as she was always helping her parents in the bakery. She had endured many sleepless nights sketching and sewing, determined to perfect her craft. Eventually, at the age of 22, Marinette felt confident enough to use her skills for work. She wanted to get on her own two feet and support herself while still living her dream. But everyone had shut the door in her face, saying they had no need for a seamstress. Marinette wandered Paris, eventually finding herself in the higher part of town. Everywhere she looked she was astounded by the grand homes that were twice the size as her own, her mind gaining inspiration from the classy ladies walking down the street.

Feeling inspired, she took a stroll through the park and sat down on a bench to sketch out her ideas. The weather was pleasant, a sunny day with hardly any clouds and a gentle breeze caressing her freckled cheeks. Marinette opened her sketchbook to draw, but noticed out of the corner of her eye a flyer hanging on a nearby post. Piqued by curiosity she decided to check it out, reading: Seamstress Needed!

The requirements were fairly simple and the pay was amazing, it was almost too good to be true. The flyer said to head to the Bourgeois estate if interested, and so she went. The girl had trouble getting into the doors - she was, after all, lower class. She was in luck, however, because the only daughter of Monsieur Bourgeois was coming home from an errand, exiting an automobile, a short girl with red hair following behind. She spotted Marinette.

“And who are you?” She asked, practically spitting out the question.

Marinette stumbled for words, showing the daughter, who she would come to know as Chloe, the flyer and her sketchbook of designs. Chloe snatched the book and almost tore the pages out while flipping through it. After a minute of analyzing, Chloe looked back up at Marinette. “Did you read the terms?” She asked.

Marinette nodded. “Yes! I have no problem moving in, though I would need to let my parents know…”

Chloe scoffed and shoved the sketchbook back into the girl’s arms. “What’s your name?” She asked, her eyes sharp and intimidating.

“M-Marinette! Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She stammered. “My father is a baker, along with my mother who came from China. My dream is to-”

“Oh please, _Dupain-Cheng_ , I don't need your life story.” Chloe walked past Marinette, snapping her fingers to the red headed girl who retrieved a notebook from her skirt pocket. “An automobile will arrive at your home by 9 A.M. tomorrow. Bring anything and everything you need to begin working as soon as possible.” She stepped inside the doors where a butler greeted her. “Tell Jean here your address and he will make all the arrangements.”

“Tomorrow?! B-but that’s so soon, I need to get packed and-”

“Do you want this job, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” Chloe challenged, her baby blue eyes seeming bored.

Marinette had no time to ponder, this ‘Chloe Bourgeois’ didn’t seem to play any games. “Yes!” She blurted out.

Chloe smiled. “Good. See you tomorrow.” And the doors shut behind her.

Marinette had reflected on how easy getting the job was, but she never thought it would be so difficult. Chloe Bourgeois was one of the pickiest people Marinette had ever met, but she had to admit the woman had good taste. Chloe’s father was a nobleman and her mother was the current face of fashion, so it was no wonder she had to keep up with appearances, but the seamstress was always piled with work. Chloe often slammed Marinette with multiple projects at once, giving deadlines to when a certain garment had to be finished. She had only been working at the Bourgeois house for a little over a month and she already had gone through two sketchbooks and had used an entire paycheck to update her sewing kit.

Miss Bourgeois didn’t seem to _need_ all the clothes she required Marinette to make, but she sure did _use_ them all on outings and dates with a man she called “Adrikins”. Marinette had no idea who he was, but from her experience with Chloe, she felt bad for any man the woman fancied. With a sigh, the seamstress looked around her room, which was piled with clothes and fabric of all kinds. She then looked at her watch; 8 o’clock. _Rrrrrr_ ...Marinette felt her stomach rumble, and she realized she hadn’t eaten anything since earlier in the afternoon. “Well, guess I should go get dinner.” She said to herself as she made her way carefully through her room again.

She walked down the hallways and stairs, entering the servants’ quarters. The smell of cooked onions, potatoes, carrots, and yeast wafted into Marinette’s nose.

“Marinette!” A high voice rang in the girl’s ears, breaking her from her trance.

Marinette turned to the owner of the voice, a small blonde girl holding a stack of plates. “Rose!” She called out in delight.

“So good to see you out of your room, Marinette! You’re not overworking yourself, are you?” Rose inquired with wide, kind eyes.

Marinette chuckled. “I think Chloe overworks everyone here.”

“Oh, she’s not so bad!” Rose walked past Marinette to set the plates on a long, wooden table. “Besides, she pays us well.”

“That’s because she has all the money in France,” another feminine voice cut into the conversation.

“Alya!” Marinette cried with glee.

“Hey girl! Hope the witch isn’t pushing you too hard.” Alya held Marinette with one arm as the Marinette closed in for a hug.

“Psh, no way. It’s hard work, but nothing I can’t handle,” Marinette said confidently.

Marinette and Alya met when the seamstress first moved into the Bourgeois household. Marinette had been eating alone on her first night and Alya, who had been working for the Bourgeois family for nearly two years as a maid, decided to make the first move and shared bread with the new girl. The two immediately hit it off, and Alya introduced Marinette to the other workers of the house: a shy but kind maid, Rose Lavillant; her very close friend and cook, Juleka Couffaine; the head cook, Le Chien Kim; housemaid Mylene Haprele; footman Alix Kubdel; and butler Ivan Bruel. All were in agreement that they were overworked and underappreciated, but nowhere else could beat the pay.

“So,” Marinette left Alya’s side, “What’s for dinner?”

“For us? Stew,” Alya bitterly replied.

“Ahh, if only Marinette could go get some of her parents sweet macarons,” Rose whined, “I’m so tired of plain bread.”

“Hey! I bake good bread!” Alix called out, coming into the dining room.

“You do, but I want something new! Something fresh!” Rose began to chant with her hands locked together, “Macaron, macaron…!”

“Are you going to pay for the ingredients it takes to make them?” Alix set the table with glasses and cutlery.

Rose’s excited expression fell, knowing she didn't want to spend her own hard earned money on baking ingredients. Everyone in the room broke out into laughter. Kim came out of the kitchen with a huge pot. “Alright everyone, Kim’s famous stew is ready for eatin’!”

All of the other servants working at the Bourgeois household gathered around the long table, taking their fill of stew and bread. Marinette sang and laughed with everyone. She enjoyed the people she worked with, it made her usually harsh working conditions worth all the while.

\----------

“A masquerade ball?” Marinette asked, getting Chloe’s current measurements in front of her mirror in the woman’s bedroom.

“Are you deaf? That’s what I said! Monsieur Agreste is holding a ball to see which eligible woman in Paris is fit to marry his son.”

“Wow, sounds _amazingly_ dull and pointless.” Alya said under her breath as she made the bed.

Chloe glared at the maid, causing Alya to shut her mouth. “Yes, it will be, because I _know_ I’m going to be the one for Adrikins.”

Marinette looked up when she mentioned that name. So it was this “Adrikins,”the one Chloe was always going out with, who this grand party was for. She wasn’t surprised. If he was Chloe’s friend then he was sure to be a pampered rich snob as well, and the mistress seemed to be madly in love with him. “Every unmarried woman in Paris is invited, so long as her outfit is passable enough to get through the doors.” Chloe snickered, “Monsieur Agreste has a strict dress code.”

“Every unmarried woman?” Marinette perked up. A masquerade ball would be a wonderful chance to get more inspiration and see gowns made by the best designers in all of Europe! The very thought made her heart flutter.

Chloe glared at Marinette. “And what are you thinking, Dupain-Cheng?” She asked condescendingly.

“I was thinking-”

“Well don’t!” Chloe cut her off. “A commoner like you doesn't belong at such an esteemed party. Besides,” she flipped her blonde hair, “you’ve got enough on your plate.”

“Enough on my plate?” Marinette tightened the measuring tape to hug Chloe’s waist, still attempting to do her job while listening to the other woman’s remarks.

“Yes, I’m giving you two more projects for the ball.”

Marinette and Alya gasped in unison. “Two!? B-but, Mademoiselle Bourgeois, how can I finish two dresses by the time of the party?! When is it?”

“In three weeks. I want an evening-party gown, an evening-dinner gown, and my own personal mask. I want them to be PERFECT!”

“You can’t slam her with two gowns on such short notice!” Alya shouted.

“Cesaire! I’ll have you beheaded if you talk back to me again!” Chloe barked back.

Alya clenched her fists and finished making the bed. She walked past the two women, giving Marinette an apologetic glance as she left the room. There was nothing she could do so long as she worked for Chloe Bourgeois.

“With all due respect, Mademoiselle, but…” Marinette fidgeted with her fingers.

“‘But’?” Chloe interrupted, something she often did. “You came to me for this job, did you not? You even agreed to move in, which should’ve been a sign that this job wouldn't be easy. I’m a busy woman and I have lots of places to be that require a new dress every time. I need someone who works efficiently. I’ve been through multiple seamstresses. Are you saying you’re not fit for the job like the others?”

Marinette downcast her eyes and bit her lip. No, she was not like the others, she would prove Chloe wrong. “I understand, Miss Bourgeois. I’ll get your dresses and matching mask to you in three weeks.” She said with resolve. Her mistress had won this round.

“Good, make those your top priority. Now go, I have to get dressed for a date with Daddy.” She looked herself up and down in her full length mirror, dressed in nothing but her undergarments.

Marinette packed up her things and left, feeling a weight on her chest. Later that night, she skipped dinner, sketching out ideas and figuring out what she will need. Chloe was ruthless and Marinette just wanted to curl up into a ball. But she was determined to pull through, she would make Chloe the best ball gowns she’d ever seen. As she was sketching, she kept getting sidetracked on a dress _she_ would wear, not her boss. She couldn't stop thinking about going to a masquerade ball, the sea of dresses ready to be studied. 

Marinette sighed in defeat and tossed her sketchbook onto her bed. She leaned back in her wooden chair that was much too harsh on her back, pondering what she should do. She glanced at her watch. Only 9:30 P.M. It was too early to go to sleep, especially when there was so much work to be done. She heard a knock on her door. “Come in.”

In stepped Alya with a tray of steaming potatoes and bread. “Long night?” She asked her friend, shutting the door behind her.

“Not long enough,” Marinette mumbled. 

Alya set the tray of food down on Marinette’s desk. “Eat up girl, you’re gonna need energy.” She smiled.

Marinette poked at her food, huffing that she wasn’t hungry. “Oh no,” Alya wagged her finger. “You’re not going to overwork _and_ starve yourself, you’re going to eat!” 

Marinette smiled at the other woman. “Thanks Alya… I just can’t seem to concentrate.” She slumped over in her chair. “What I would give to go to a party as grand and fashionable as that one. Imagine, ladies sitting waiting around to see ‘Adrikins’.” She air quoted the man’s nickname. “The lights gleaming off of their jewelry and their gowns swaying across the polished floors. Layers of silk, lace, and satin all cluttered together in a pool of fabric! Oh, I can see it now. I can almost taste the inspiration!”

Alya giggled at her friend’s enthusiasm. “I can certainly see why you’re excited. But Chloe said you can’t go, and you know if she saw you there, you would lose your job. It’s not like you could just go without her knowing.”

A light went off in Marinette’s head. “Alya, you’re a genius!” Her eyes shone bright with excitement.

“I am?” Alya asked, confused, then her eyes went wide. “No, girl, don’t do it! It’s too risky!”

Marinette leaned in, grabbing her sketchbook from her bed. “So here’s my plan…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> marinette struggles to finish three extravagant gowns before the ball at monsieur agreste's mansion

"...And I want it big, like a princess gown!" Chloe snapped her fingers in Marinette's general direction, "Make sure it's piled with bows and frills, and it has to sparkle."

Marinette mentally noted all of Chloe's ranting about her dress details, having been called in by her mistress. Chloe was doing her hair in her vanity mirror, getting ready for whatever outing her and Sabrina had planned. This was a regular occurrence in Marinette's day. Mademoiselle Bourgeois would call her to wherever she was and give her a long list of details for what she wanted her gowns to look like. The list was, of course, verbal. Not even Sabrina made a note of all the things Chloe required her gown to have, Marinette had to remember them all by heart. 

Marinette recalled when she first started working for Chloe and she went on her tangents, if there was one little thing missing then Chloe would refuse the dress and demand it be remade. Marinette never threw out the reject dresses,however. She kept them packed away in the tiny storage space in her bedroom wall.  _ How could I throw them out when they haven't even been worn _ , Marinette thought to herself. Surely someone will give them a good home one day.

“Marinette,” Chloe’s snapping made its way back into Marinette’s ears, “Are you listening to me? If this dress isn’t absolutely  _ perfect _ by the ball I’m sending you to the guillotine!”

“Yes, Mademoiselle Bourgeois.” Marinette replied with emptiness. Yes, this was something she was used to. 

“Good. Now go, Sabrina and I are going to shop for a new corset, I need my waist to be perfectly pinched.” Chloe ran her hands down the sides of her figure.

Marinette bowed and took her leave to her bedroom. She reached into her skirt pocket, a design made none other than the seamstress herself, and took the graphite pencil from her ear. She list off the details Chloe had given her, making her way through the twists and turns of the mansion’s hallways. She approached the door to her bedroom, opening it with ease and stepping over any boxes or rolls of fabric scattered on the floor. Marinette tossed her sketchbook onto her desk tucked away in the corner of her room and began to loosely sketch out frills and bows, laying down the base for a human figure. 

Marinette had taken Chloe’s measurements and seen her in her undergarments so much that she memorized her body type, which was a huge help to her in designing dresses for the woman. Pencil flying across the page, the seamstress wrote bullet points, drew details, and shaded in shapes. She took a step back, moving her attention away from the paper. She examined the pages, taking in everything she scribbled onto them. She felt satisfied with what she already had down, but there were still empty spaces, still so much detail to be added. She sat down in her little wooden chair, her skirt pooling over the side of the seat. Marinette picked up her pencil and tapped it onto the desk, trying to get her gears working. 

Suddenly, she could hear a buzzing sound. It was faint at first, but soon became louder. Marinette looked to see a honey bee flying around her window. She stared at it, buzzing around the window to the laid out material on her bed. The honey bee then found one of Marinette’s flowers that she had put on the skinny nightstand beside her bed. The seamstress smiled at this, the bee was only trying to gather nectar for its colony, which in itself was run by a queen. Marinette thought that her situation was similar, living in a home with many workers whose sole purpose is to serve the queen that rules them. Then, a light went off in her head.  _ Of course! _ Chloe was just like a queen bee, doing nothing for herself and being surrounded and served by the many members of her court. 

Marinette quickly turned her attention to her sketchbook, scratching the surface of her pencil to the paper, creating various lines and curves. After about a minute, she leaned back in her seat and analyzed her drawing. A bee broach to go on the center of an off-shoulder neckline. This inspired Marinette, looking through her piles of fabric for the right colors suited for this “Queen Bee” themed dress. This wasn’t exactly what Chloe had asked for, but Marinette was hoping her risk would pay off. She would still include all of the details that her mistress listed off, but would take some artistic liberties as well.

The seamstress searched among her room, locating the proper materials she would need. Marinette had everything, the various yellows, the dark black silks, the bows, rhinestones, and stitchings for the small details. She was completely ready for this dress. Except ...The broach! Marinette didn’t have a bee themed broach! She had tons of broaches scattered in a jewelry box, miscellaneous gems and gold and silver rings, earrings! Jewelry piled on top of jewelry just in case she would need it. But a bee broach? Not something she had in her collection. 

Marinette gathered her skirt in her fists and stood from her chair, taking a few steps to her dresser, shuffling through her top drawer. She pulled out a small pouch, a creamy white color with a pink rose stitched into it. Opening the pouch, Marinette counted her money. If she didn’t have the right broach, she would have to buy it. Once she was finished counting and determined she may have just enough, she scrambled to grab her sketchbook and headed out the door.

Swiftly walking down the hallway, Marinette shoved her belongings in her pockets.

“Hey Marinette!” She heard from behind her.

Marinette looked back to see Alya. “Alya! Hey!” The seamstress called back, turning around to her friend.

Alya looked Marinette up and down, noticing her disheveled hair and shortness of breath. “Wow girl, you look like you’re on a mission. What’s going on?” The maid questioned.

“Ah, well, you see, I kind of need to head into town for something. Are you free? I could use some help.” Marinette gave her best puppy eyes.

“Hmmm…” Alya crossed her arms and leaned on her right foot, “I suppose I could sneak away from my job for a bit to help you with yours. Where are we going?”

Marinette giggled, bouncing on her toes. She slinked an arm around the maid, “I’ll tell you about it on the way.” She smirked.

The girls stopped by the servant’s quarters to grab Alya’s bag and hat, then left out the back doors of the mansion where the workers usually came in and out. They linked arms as they walked, giggling and talking among themselves. “So.” Alya started, “Where exactly do you plan on finding this bee shaped accessory?”

Marinette thought for a moment, resting her finger on her lip. “Well, I do know one place that may have just what I’m looking for, but it’s such short notice…” She said unsure.

“Come on, Marinette, what’s the worst that could happen: you don't get the broach?” Alya responded with a teasing tone.

“Yes!” Marinette cried, “That’s exactly the worst that could happen! If I don’t have the broach then the gown will be incomplete, and an incomplete dress means a dissatisfied Chloe, and an unhappy Chloe means I lose my head! And worse, my job!!”

The maid burst into laughter, “Girl, calm down! I’m sure you can find something, and even if you can’t find the broach to fit your theme, I’m sure you could come up with some way to make it work. You’re a master seamstress after all.” Alya encouraged the anxious woman.

Marinette looked up at her friend with a smile, her worries growing smaller. She tightened her grip on Alya’s arm and urged her forward, “Well then, let’s go!”

Alya happily followed Marinette, the two making their way deeper into Paris. They passed gift shops, restaurants, and cafes, walking through the downtown. Marinette led her friend to a back street, pointing to a small shop on the corner. Walking up to it, Alya looked at the wooden sign outside the door, words in fancy cursive reading “Miraculous Tailors.” They walked into the door, a small bell rang to announce their arrival. The shop was a mess, rolls of fabric and various other materials like silk, cotton, and lace scattered about the countertops. Mannequins stood around the large room covered in unfinished garments, some gowns with long trains laid out behind them, others with loose fabric hanging from the seams and pins still holding pieces in place. It was quiet, save for the noise of a sewing machine running in the distance. 

“Tikki?” Marinette called out into the cluttered shop. 

The clicking of the sewing machine ceased, a woman’s head peeking out from the piles of material. “Marinette!” A high, feminine voice echoed through the walls of the room.

A short, thin woman came around the corner with her arms outstretched toward the girls. She had dark brown skin with moles scattered about her face and arms, ocean blue eyes and long, dreaded currant colored hair. “It’s so good to see you again, Marinette! How are you?” She spoke with an accent different than what most Parisians had. In fact, it seemed as if French wasn’t her first language at all. 

Marinette welcomed the woman as she closed in for a hug, embracing the other seamstress in kind. “Tikki! I missed you!” She cried happily. 

Tikki broke from the hug to look Marinette in the face, “Your eyes grow more vibrant with each passing day!” The woman said with a wide smile. Then, she looked to Alya, a face she didn’t recognize. “Oh, hello! I’m Tikki, the one who taught Marinette how to sew.”

Alya looked around the messy room, an array of colors painting the walls and counters. “I can see where Marinette gets her storage habits from.” She chuckled. 

Marinette giggled while Tikki’s face flushed crimson, “Oh, I apologize for the mess, it’s not usually like this but I’ve been slammed with commissions!” She placed a hand on her cheek, “With this ball that Monsieur Agreste is holding, women from all over Paris have come to my shop asking for a gown.”

Alya seemed impressed while Marinette had a proud look on her face, “Tikki is the best seamstress in all of France. I’m honored to have her as my teacher.”

“Well, I don’t know about  _ all _ of France but surely Paris.” Tikki replied with a wink. 

“So,” The woman clapped her hands together, “What invites you to me, my sweet Marinette?” She asked with dazzling eyes.

Marinette dug out her sketchbook from her skirt pocket and flipped to the page with her most recent sketches. “See Tikki, I was hired to work as a seamstress for the daughter of Monsieur Bourgeois, and of course she’s going to the ball because it’s for her ‘Adrikins’” She said the last bit with a mock romantic tone, “And she’s giving me not one but TWO gowns to mend for the party! And she’s insufferable, Tikki, she doesn’t do a thing for herself! She’s a brat who hangs my job over my head like im a dog waiting for a treat, and she always has her own little puppy following her around at all times!”

Tikki laughed, “Slow down, Marinette. To work for Miss Bourgeois one must have a lot of skill and proper time management. I’ve heard many horror stories. But you’re efficient, and you have a good head on your shoulders. You could learn to prioritize a little better, but I think that will come with this job. I believe in you Marinette.”

Marinette smiled, her heart feeling warm at Tikki’s kind words. “Now,” She started again, “Tell me what it is you need.”

Marinette showed Tikki her sketch of the broach, “Please,  _ please _ tell me you have a bee shaped broach? You’re the only person in Paris that I know has animal themed designs on hand.” She bit her lip, giving Tikki pleading eyes. 

Tikki studied the sketch for a moment, then headed for the back of her shop. She disappeared behind the same corner she came from, gone for a few minutes. She soon came back with something gold in her hands. “This is the only one I have, it’s a little large, but I think it will do.” She smiled.

Marinette eyed the broach, shimmering gold hues reflecting off the lights in the shop. It was solid and a little heavy for its size, details carved into the body and wings. “Tikki, it’s perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Marinette bowed about a dozen times as she expressed her gratitude. 

Tikki giggled, “Anything for my favorite student. It’s yours to do as you please.” She gave the young girl another hug.

“Great, now we really have to get back or Mylene is gonna kill me for leaving all the chores to her.” Alya urged Marinette to the door. 

“Wait just a moment!” Tikki called out.

Alya and Marinette looked to the older woman with curiosity. “Ah, I don’t want to keep you any longer but I must ask, Marinette you’re attending the ball right?”

“I-”

“Yes she is!” Alya interrupted the seamstress before she could speak for herself. 

“Well, I haven’t fully decided…” Marinette mumbled.

“Oh no girl, you were so excited about this ball because it would, and I quote, ‘give you enough inspiration to last your lifetime.’ You even came up with a plan to sneak out, and I got everyone in on it, you are  _ not _ backing out now!” Alya crossed her arms.

“Sneak out?” Tikki asked with curious eyes.

Marinette smiled awkwardly at her teacher, “Well, you see, Chloe kind of forbade me to go. But imagine, Tikki! Women will be wearing the best designs in all of europe, I have to go! It’s only my duty as a future world-renowned seamstress!”

Tikki stared at Marinette for a moment as Alya sighed next to her. “Well,” She started, “Have you got an idea for your dress?”

Marinette sighed in defeat. “With all the projects Chloe’s given me, I haven’t had the time to even think of a design for myself.”

Tikki pressed her lips together in thought. “Wait here.” She said before disappearing behind the corner once again. 

The girls waited with anticipation, wondering what Tikki could possibly be up to. The woman returned with something bright red in her hands. “Here, take this. Maybe you could find some inspiration from it.” Tikki said softly, placing the jewel into Marinette’s hand.

Marinette opened her palm to see a ladybug pin, red and black glass gleaming. “A ladybug?” The girl asked her mentor.

“Ladybugs are a symbol of good luck and prosperity, I believe this will help you with your designing process.” Tikki smiled wide.

Marinette tucked the broach away in her bag, saying goodbye to her teacher and heading out the door with Alya. They linked arms once again, walking up the alley and into the main street. “So, where did you meet her? She must be an amazing seamstress to be your teacher.” Alya asked, curiosity poking at her. 

“Well,” Marinette looked to the sky, recalling her first meeting with Tikki. “I was probably 15 years old and Tikki came into my parents’ bakery. She carried herself with confidence and she had on the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. I was mesmerized, so I asked her where she bought her dress. That was when she told me she made it herself.”

“I was so impressed I practically threw myself to the floor asking her to teach me how to sew.” Marinette continued, “Luckily she’s patient and kind, so she asked to see some of my designs. One thing led to another, and then every week I would commute to her shop where she would teach me how to mend clothing and perfect my skills.”

Alya stared at her friend in awe. Marinette really admired Tikki. The two made their way back to the Bourgeois estate, arms linked and giggling as they did on their way to the shop. Once back at the mansion they went their separate ways, getting back to their respective duties. Marinette devoted the rest of the day to sketching and sewing, using her only mannequin as a base to hang the dress. With all of the projects Chloe bestowed upon her, the seamstress was really starting to consider purchasing another one.

The evening flew by, Marinette hardly noticing day turn to dusk. She stepped away from her desk, taking herself out of designing mode and let herself breathe. She didn’t realize just how tired she really was until she took herself out of her own head. Laying on her bed, she decided she would rest her eyes for a moment. Though, the moment must have lasted a long time because when she opened her eyes again her room was lit up from the sun. Groggy, Marinette sat up, not even a blanket over her body. She looked around her room, everything was the same cluttered mess it was before, except her candle was down to the wick. She stretched, cracking her back in the process.

Then, she could hear commotion outside her door, hasty footsteps making their way closer. The door flew open. Mylene stood in the entryway, her hair frizzy and her skirt a ruffled mess. “Marinette, Mademoiselle Chloe has been calling you for over 3 minutes.” She informed the seamstress.

Panic began to set in Marinette, her stomach dropping to the floor. She flung herself off of her bed and stumbled to the door making her way past the maid. “Where is she?” She asked in one breath.

“The dressing room.” Mylene replied.

Marinette practically ran through the mansion to her mistress’ dressing room. If she had been calling her for over 3 minutes Marinette knew she was in deep trouble. You do  _ not _ keep the mistress waiting. No sooner could the seamstress reach Chloe’s dressing room. She stood in the doorway panting, trying to make herself look at least slightly presentable. Chloe glared at Marinette from the mirror she was staring in. “And just where have you been?!” Chloe squawked, demanding to know why she was kept waiting for over two seconds, “I was calling for you! Were you ignoring me?!”

“N-no! I’m so sorry Mademoiselle, I was…sleeping.” Marinette winced at her response.  _ Sleeping! That’s not gonna help matters! _

Chloe’s eye twitched, “Sleeping? You were  _ sleeping!? _ Utterly ridiculous, what do I even pay you for!”

“My deepest apologies, Mademoiselle…” Marinette downcast her eyes.

“Well, whatever. Since you kept me waiting for so long I forgot what I even called you for. But, since you’re here...Go get me some tea.” She began to pat her face with powder.

“I’m...sorry?” The seamstress almost couldn’t believe what she heard.

“Are you deaf too? I said ‘go get me some tea.’” Chloe’s tone was growing more and more irritated by the second.

Marinette blinked, looked behind her, and then back to Chloe. “You want  _ me _ to get you a refreshment?” She asked in disbelief.

Chloe now turned to face Marinette herself instead of looking at her through a mirror. “Am I not speaking loud enough for you? Or are you just so incompetent that you can’t even take a simple order?”

“But, you hired me to be your seamstress. My job doesn’t require me to-” 

“Your  _ job _ is to do whatever I tell you, Dupain-Cheng! Are you not even good enough to do that? Do I need to put you out of a job? And if you talk back to me I’ll make sure you don’t work anywhere ever again! Now, go get my tea.” Chloe turned away, dabbing her neckline with more powder.

Marinette balled her fists and took a deep breath through her nose. She  _ wanted _ to talk back, to yell and scream and quit. But she knew that this was the best job she was going to get for now. Disappearing back into the hallways of the mansion Marinette did as she was told, for there was nothing else she could do. 

From then on, Chloe gave Marinette even more house chores to do, keeping her busy at all hours of the day. The seamstress bit her nails to the quick in an act of stress, going without sleep for far too many nights. She ran various errands a day just to get any supplies she may need, and just to step out of the mansion that she was constantly cooped up in. She found that working on three gowns in such a short time frame was more work than she bargained for, and even almost gave up going to the ball all together, but Alya and everyone else were a huge support to her. 

Finally, the day had arrived. Marinette awoke feeling anxious, her heart pounding heavily in her chest and her fingers trembling as she hastily added any finishing touches to Chloe’s gowns. The day went on without any commotion, which honestly only made Marinette shake with anticipation even more. Holed up in her room, sewing tiny coats to keep her hands busy with  _ something _ , Marinette looked to Alya who was sitting on her bed beside her. “Alya, I’m so nervous, what if this plan doesn’t work? What if I run into Chloe at the ball and she recognizes me? Ohh, I’m done for Alya, I’ll never work again!”

Alya rolled her eyes at the seamstress, “Girl, you are overreacting. It’s a masquerade ball, right? No one will know who anyone is, that’s the beauty of anonymity. Plus, I don’t think Chloe of all people will care about anyone else but Adrikins.”

Marinette smiled weakly at her friend, feeling a little boost to her mood from the maid’s encouragement. The two looked up when they heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Marinette, Mademoiselle Chloe wishes to see you.” It was Rose, her soft voice barely reaching the girls’ ears.

Marinette sighed and sat up, putting away all of her belongings that she was using to keep herself busy. “Well, Alya, let’s see if the witch likes the gowns I made her. Give me a hand?” She asked the other woman.

Alya sat up from the bed, helping Marinette carry the dresses out and through the mansion to the mistress’ dressing room. Marinette kept the ball gown on her mannequin which she rolled through the hallways on wheels while Alya carried the after-party gown. Reaching the dressing room, Marinette could hear Chloe’s audible gasp from behind the partition screen. She winced at the sound, unsure if it was a gasp of delight or utter disgust. Chloe came out from behind the screen in nothing but her undergarments and approached the seamstress. 

“Well, Dupain-Cheng, I’m impressed.” Chloe spoke condescendingly, “It looks like you do have some talent after all.” She circled around the dress, examining it closely.

An off the shoulder collar with ruffles bordering the outside, detailed lace resting on the breast, acting as a sort of shawl, fluffy short sleeves ending at the elbow. The waist curved in, a sapphire jewel dangling from the front end of the corset. It’s skirt flared out like something out of a fairytale, ruffles, bows, and sparkles piled on top of each other in yellow, orange, and black. The look was finally topped off with the bee shaped broach setting in the center of the bust of the dress. 

“And the mask?” Chloe asked, taking her eyes off the gown.

Marinette reached into the dress pocket and pulled out a small mask. It was yellow with black rimming and ruffles on the border, a cat’s eye design around the eyes. Chloe snatched the mask from the seamstress, raising an eyebrow at its design. After a few moments of analyzing, she snapped her fingers. “Sabrina.” She called to her shadow. 

Sabrina peeked out from behind the partition screen, her green eyes wide. She came out from hiding, already donning her dress; pink and gold with roses along the end of the skirt and sleeves, long pink gloves covering her arms and a cross necklace making a nice accent to the outfit. It was a simple dress, and she was sure to blend in with the crowd standing next to Chloe, but she looked quite lovely, her hair done up in a bun with a braid across the top. She clapped her hands at the sight of Chloe’s gown, “Oh, Chloe, it’s gorgeous!”

Chloe smirked, “Of course it is, I designed it and I am a genius after all.”

Marinette breathed a sigh, of course Chloe would take the credit for her work but it would be a stupid thing to talk back. As Sabrina fawned over the party gown Chloe averted her attention to the gown Alya was holding over her shoulder. “Stop holding my dress like that, Cesaire, do you want to ruin it!?” She yelled, “Let me see my dinner gown!”

It took both Alya and Marinette to hold the dress out well enough for Chloe to see. It wasn’t as extravagant as her party gown, but it was still a beautiful dress. A low cut neckline with ruffles around the collar, sleeveless and white with yellow stripes, and a ruffled up skirt that lead a small train behind. Chloe examined this dress as well, seeming satisfied. She clapped her hands with glee. “Oh Sabrina, I am going to be the most dazzling jewel at the ball with these!” She smiled something that actually seemed genuine, her blue eyes light with glee. “Now, put it on me, girls!” 

It took Marinette, Alya, and Sabrina to pull Chloe’s party gown over her comparatively small body. Once all was set in place Chloe looked herself up and down in the large mirror that covered an entire wall. She twirled in place, letting the skirt flare out like rays of the sun. She seemed so genuinely happy to wear it, Marinette felt that even Chloe could have a heart, and if she enjoyed it so much then maybe all the work put into it was worth it. 

The moment of softness was ruined, however, when Chloe squinted at the seamstress and maid through the mirror. “What are you still doing here?” She scoffed.

The servants took their cue to leave, exiting the dressing room as Chloe called for Jean to ready the carriage. “Now it’s time for mission number two.” Alya whispered in Marinette’s ear, pushing her along.

Marinette wore a determined smile. She picked up her dress and swiftly made her way back to her room to get changed. Alya watched with pride as her friend disappeared around the corner, making her own way to her post, that being the butler’s pantry off to the side of the foyer. Alya peeked around the corner to the main entrance. Mylene saw off Chloe and Sabrina, the mistress boasting about how excited she was for the party. Once the two women were in their carriage, Mylene signaled a hand gesture to Alya, they were ready to put the plan into motion. 

Alya nodded, and gave an OK signal to Ivan who accompanied her in the butler’s pantry. He nodded, grabbing a cup full of piping hot tea and passing Alya on his way out. She slipped him a notecard, the invitation she had swiped from Chloe’s bedroom when she had been cleaning it earlier in the day. Ivan casually made his way up the foyer stairs to the second floor, heading to Monsieur Bourgeois’s office, as it was time for his nightly tea. “Ah, Ivan, wonderful.” Mr Bourgeois sighed in relief once he saw the butler. “Chloe, my precious daughter, has been driving me absolutely crazy going on about Monsieur Agreste’s ball tonight. I could use a cup of hot tea.”

Just before Ivan could set the tea down on the table, Rose came to the door of the office and called for Mr Bourgeois. “Oh, Monsieur Bourgeois, there’s a mysterious man climbing over the gates of the mansion!” She cried.

Mr Bourgeois gasped and shot up from his seat at his desk, “A thief out to steal my riches! Come Miss Lavillant, show me where this man is!” He stormed out of the room, Rose giving Ivan a wink as they headed away from the room.

“Good work Kim.” Ivan whispered under his breath, taking out the invitation Alya had slipped him.

He opened the letter, pinpointing the address written on the piece of paper. He went behind Mr Bourgeois desk, examining the map of Paris the man had hanging on his wall. Ivan searched the map, using markers to find the Bourgeois estate. Gliding a finger across the paper, he searched for the Agreste mansion. “Found it.” He whispered, taking out a napkin from his chest pocket and used the pen on Mr Bourgeois’ desk to write down his own little map for Marinette.

Once he was done Ivan set everything back in place. He walked out of the room where he met Alya. “Did you get it?” She asked.

Ivan handed Alya the makeshift map he drew on a napkin, met with a satisfied smile from the woman. “Perfect! Let’s do this before everyone gets back.” She said with determination.

Alya left Ivan, heading to the servant’s quarters where Marinette’s room was located. She reached the seamstress’ room, knocking on the door. “Girl, are you ready?” She asked through the door.

“How am I supposed to get this on by myself?!” Marinette could be heard from beyond the door.

“Figure it out, we don’t have much time!” Alya said in response.

After a few silent moments, the knob turned and the door flew open. Alya stared at the woman in front of her in awe, donned in red and black Marinette stood before her friend like a walking ladybug. Her dress started with an off the shoulder look, leading into short, puffy sleeves. Her corset was detailed with gold and black, her long gloves dotted with black spots. The skirt was long and pooled at the feet with ruffles and layers, the bustle decorated with golden lace and black roses, leading down to a train. Marinette held her hair in a high bun, a simple necklace resting above her breasts, and to top off the look the ladybug pin that Tikki had given her resting at the top of the skirt.

“Oh, Marinette, you look beautiful!” Alya cried, her hand on her heart. 

Marinette giggled, “I hope so, I can’t count how many sleepless nights I spent mending this.”

“Okay, no more gawking, we have to get moving before Monsieur Bourgeois finds out what we’re up to.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took me so long! it was originally going to be longer, but i decided to cut it off here so i have an entire chapter to write for the ball. im rly excited for it, so i'll do my best to work on chapter 3!!
> 
> chloe's party gown: https://mikoriin.tumblr.com/post/186475788260/i-dont-feel-like-painting-the-dresss
> 
> chloe's dinner gown: https://gabzilla-z.tumblr.com/post/186666700762/fashionsfromhistory-ball-gown-c1877-museo
> 
> sabrina's evening look: https://mikoriin.tumblr.com/post/186476570805/mikoriin-may-draw-up-a-quick-sketch-of-sabrinas
> 
> marinette's evening look: https://mikoriin.tumblr.com/post/186228323685/marinette-or-should-i-say-ladybug-for-seamstress
> 
> all artworks are done by me! ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette attends the Agreste party, dazzled by its elegance, and dances with a stranger in the moonlight

Marinette balled her skirt into her fist, keeping the long dress off of the ground. Making a nice pace to the Agreste manor, she looked down at the map Ivan had drawn out for her, her blue bell eyes darting around the darkened street corners. There was hardly anyone on the streets, most Parisians likely attending the party, or sleeping in their homes. Recognizing certain buildings and landmarks, Marinette made twists and turns until she came upon a rather huge mansion encased in pearly white gates. 

This was on par with Chloe’s home, though the Bourgeois family was a bit more loud in their extravagance. The front gate was flooded with carriages, crowds of women surrounding the large, stone steps leading up to the front doors. There was a sea of sashaying fabric, waves of silk flowing with each woman’s movements. Marinette’s eyes shone brightly the closer she got, a rainbow of colors popping in the moonlight. She was brought out of her trance when she felt an impact at her side. 

“Ugh, watch where you’re going.” A woman next to her scoffed, Marinette having bumped into her.

Marinette quickly bowed and apologized, having felt embarrassed she made herself known. Yes, this was a masquerade ball, making it hard to recognize anyone in the darkness of the night, but she wanted to be as invisible as possible. She wasn’t supposed to be there after all. She made her way through the crowd of women, making sure to step lightly. Reaching the front gate, two large guards stopped her where she stood. Marinette tensed up, would she be turned away? Did Chloe somehow find out Marinette was coming and made sure to tell the guards not to let her in? 

Then, out stepped a woman in a red and black gown. She held her dark hair in a high bun, glasses pushed up on her nose. Marinette noticed a peculiar red streak in her bangs. The woman looked the seamstress up and down as if she was making notes about her in her head. Marinette felt anxious under her glare. 

“She may pass.” The woman then said. 

The guards said nothing as they opened the gate for Marinette. She let out a breath, feeling relieved from their intimidating glares. She entered the courtyard, captivated by the glorious roses and irises that accessorized the scene, a large fountain of a woman in the center. Marinette gazed at the marble fountain, thinking that whoever the woman was based off of must have been breathtakingly beautiful. 

The music slowly drifted through Marinette’s ears, taking her mind off the fountain. The modely was classy and refined, giving a romantic mood for the party. She followed the tune, making her way through the crowd of women in dresses just as big as hers and came into the Agreste mansion. 

Lights gleamed off of the marble floors, reflecting the scene like a giant mirror. Marinette was in awe by how beautiful it was, everything seemed like a dream. She was taken out of her trance by someone bumping into her, much like she had done earlier. “P-Pardon...me.” She mumbled as the woman who knocked her side continued past her without a word. 

Marinette huffed at the lack of manners these women seemed to have. Moving past it, she followed the music. It led her through a crowded dining room, people chatting away and sipping wine. She took in the elegance of the room, fine wooden table with no chairs surrounding it, dark walls with white trimming and the ceiling a painting of angels on clouds. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, lighting up the room. There were dozens of paintings hanging on the walls of whom Marinette could only assume were family members. 

Her trip through the dining room came to an end as she reached another, smaller room. Marinette noticed that every single room she passed through was equally as beautiful and elegant. Finally, she reached two open double doors, glass panes encased in gold. The ballroom by far was the most populated space in the house, it was alive with music and drunken laughter. Her eyes lit up with wonder and enchantment, feeling her heart race with excitement. The music was loudest in this room, a band playing graciously in their own little corner. Chatter overlapped with the tune of the instruments, the voices of many women filling up the room.

Butlers with silver trays effortlessly maneuvered between the guests, passing out wine and  hors d'oeuvres. Stepping forward into the ballroom, she looked around at the scenery to take in the grandeur of it all. Tall columns spread out throughout the room held up the ceiling which, like the dining room, was painted of angels and clouds. Chariots riding along the blue background and the biggest chandelier Marinette had ever seen hanging from the center of the room. Her eyes led her to see the various balconies filled to the brim with women chatting away as if they didn’t have a care in the world. 

As she made her way deeper into the ballroom, some eyes made contact with hers, making her cheeks flush. Some women pointed and smiled. It made Marinette feel embarrassed, unsure of what they were talking about. She assumed the worst;  _ Is my dress too plain? Too revealing? Is it ugly? _ Marinette shook her head, it was a beautiful gown though a bit avant garde. She may not have been the most outstanding girl at the party, but she worked through sleepless nights perfecting her dress and if someone didn’t like it then it wasn’t her problem.

Or so she tried to think. Marinette was always an anxious girl. She was clumsy and always seemed to trip over her words, her mind always thinking the worst when things didn’t go exactly how she’d planned. 

“Isn’t it stunning? I had it specially commissioned myself.”

Marinette stopped in her tracks upon hearing that loud, familiar voice. She frantically searched the direction it came from only to see who she wanted to bump into least.  _ Chloe _ . She stuck out like a sore thumb, her dress probably the most flashy and extravagant at the party. Sabrina stood silently by her side, almost like a shadow, while a tall blonde man that Marinette didn’t recognize in a white and gold suit smiled at Chloe. There was one more man among them, someone she also didn’t recognize. He didn’t stand out too much in the group, aside from being the only person of color. 

“I actually designed it myself, you see.” Chloe’s loud, condescending voice could be heard a mile away. “I spent hours, night after night painstakingly drawing the blueprints for this dress. I wanted it to look perfect for Adrikin’s party.” She dramatically placed her hand overtop her bosom. 

Marinette felt rage boiling in her veins. Chloe, designing the dress she was wearing? She barely acknowledged Marinette’s hard work and now she’s taking the credit!? And  _ blueprints _ ? She didn’t even use the proper terminology for design! She watched the group chit chat, Chloe flinging herself over the blonde gentleman. She felt her cheeks grow hot when suddenly he looked her way. They locked eyes for a moment, a toxic green burning into Marinette’s mind.

Remembering where she was and who she was, she seamstress broke away from the man’s gaze. She decided to go cool down outside the ballroom, unable to stand being in the same place as Chloe. Marinette made her way to two more large doors that led out to the back garden. She shut the doors behind her, muffling out the music and laughter. She breathed in the night air, feeling the cold in the back of her mouth. She looked at her surroundings; tall hedges loomed over the flower bushes, creating a maze made of green. The garden was colored in hues of purple, blue and violet flowers with white lillies scattered about. In the center was a much smaller, simpler fountain than the one by the main gates. 

Marinette decided to take a seat by the fountain, contemplating if she should just leave. She took a deep breath. “Why did I even come here?” She sighed to herself.

“Is everything alright, my lady?” A sweet, smooth voice came from behind her.

She looked up to find those same green eyes staring gently at her. It was the man in Chloe’s group. Marinette sat herself up straight, not wanting to look beat down in front of a stranger. “I’m fine.” She answered politely.

The man smiled weakly, almost to say he didn’t believe her but wasn’t going to press for more questions. Instead, went with something a little less nosey. “May I sit next to you?”

Marinette stared at him in suspicion. Why would one of Chloe’s friends want to speak with her? Did Chloe figure out that she was here? Was he a spy? Questions ran through her mind as she stared at the gentleman. He visibly blushed under her stern gaze, causing Marinette to remember she was speaking to someone. “Miss…?” He said nervously. 

“Ah.” Marinette left her thoughts. “Yes.” She said softly.

He let out a soft breath and sat down next to the seamstress. The two didn’t say anything for a few moments, the man breaking the silence when things seemed to appear awkward. “So, what brings you out here? Why not enjoy the party?”

Marinette soothed out the wrinkled in her dress, not looking him in the eye. “I’m escaping.” She said flatly.

The gentleman chuckled. “Funny, I am too.”

She looked at him now, furrowing her brow at his response. She decided to pique her own curiosity. “Had enough of your friends?” She interrogated. “The one in the princess gown seemed to enjoy your company.”

“So you were watching us?” He flashed a suspecting smile.

Marinette blushed. He noticed. “No, I just happened to glance over.”

The man laughed, short and endearing. Marinette thought that it was the most charming sound she had ever heard. “The princess can be a bit...Overbearing.” He said, sounding a bit exhausted. 

“I understand all too well…” Marinette mumbled.

“Pardon?” He asked innocently.

“Ah, nothing.” She brushed him off. “This is a very good place to come down from a party. This garden is beautiful.”

The gentleman looked into the night sky, breathing in the air the same way Marinette had done. The two sat by the fountain in contentment, staring up at the stars. The muffled music could be heard from the ballroom, making the man smile. Marinette looked to him. She studied his features, straight nose and chiseled jaw, his smile really made his whole face light up. Even under his mask, Marinette could tell he was beautiful.

The man then looked at her with that moonlit smile, making the seamstress blush but she didn't look away. “This is my favorite song.” He said simply, closing his eyes and nodding along to the melody. 

Marinette smiled genuinely, feeling the stranger’s happiness radiating off of him. “It’s lovely.” She said softly.

He then looked at her with eyes aglow, like a child receiving a gift. He promptly stood up and extended his hand out to the girl. “Would you like to dance?”

Marinette blinked, staring at his gloved hand. “Dance?” She questioned.

“You seem like you don't normally do things like this, so I want your time here to be one of a kind. And what better way to do that than to dance to beautiful music?”

The wind blew, ruffling his golden hair. Flower petals danced in the air as he seemed to shine under the moonlight like an angel sent from above to take her to heaven. Flushed under her red and black mask, Marinette reluctantly reached out her hand. Everything seemed to brighten upon contact, the music clear in her ears as he pulled her close. Their chests touched, Marinette’s whole body set aflame. “Don’t be nervous.” He whispered which sent shivers down her spine.

He took a step to the right, then to the left, Marinette following suit. She took each step carefully, watching his feet closely. He spun her, then the two moved into dancing in slow circles. Marinette fixated her eyes on the man’s feet, biting her lip in deep concentration. “Relax, you’re doing great.” He said, not taking his bright green eyes off the woman in his arms. 

As if his words were magic, Marinette felt all the tension leave her body. She set her eyes on his, transfixed by how radient they were. They danced to the music, drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. Marinette could feel her heart racing, the beating so loud in her ears she was sure he could hear it too. His gentle smile calmed her nerves, and his eyes,  _ oh his eyes _ . They were practically glowing in the night light, deep pools of green swimming around dark pupils. She was sure it was just the romantic mood, but the gentleman seemed to look at her like she was the only woman in the world. It seemed to last a lifetime, Marinette feeling a great sense of euphoria. 

Then, the midnight bells chimed, drowning out the music the man so adored. The two stopped dancing to listen. “Midnight already?” Marinette bit her lip. 

“Everything alright, my lady?” He asked in concern. 

Marinette separate herself from the man, taking a few steps back. If she didn’t get back to the Bourgeois home soon she was sure to meet with an enraged Chloe. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” She turned and headed for the doors leading into the ballroom. 

“Wait!” He called out to her. “Please, you haven’t told me your name!” 

Marinette stopped with her hands on the door handles. She thought for a moment, she didn’t want to give him her real name if he knew Chloe. Sweat dripped down her neck as she debated leaving without another word. Then, she got a brilliant idea. She turned to face him and brought her index finger to her lips with a wink. “Call me Ladybug.” Was all she said before dashing through the double doors. 

She squeezed through the crowds of women, swearing there were even more than before. “Excuse me, pardon me.” She pushed through.

Luckily most of the population had moved to inside the mansion, making leaving the property a breeze. Marinette took the same backstreets that she had walked earlier in the night. It seemed to take forever to get back to the Bourgeois household, the whole walk spent in fear that Chloe would be waiting ready to fire her. 

Marinette finally, after what seemed like ages, reached the place she called home. She peeked open the door to the servants quarters and looked around. There, Rose met the seamstress with excitement in her big blue eyes. “She’s back!” She called out into the rest of the quarters.

The usual group came rushing in, Alya at the forefront of the crowd. The maid grasped Marinette’s hands, her eyes twinkling. “How did it go? Did you have fun? Was it as magical as you thought it would be? You didn’t run into Chloe did you?” Alya bombarded her with questions.

Marinette put her hands over her friend’s mouth. “Hush! What if she hears you?” She said with panic in her voice.

Alya removed the other girl’s hands from her face displaying a look of confidence. “Relax girl, the mistress isn’t back yet.”

Marinette let out a sigh of relief. “You guys didn’t get into any trouble while I was gone did you?” She asked with worry in her voice.

“Unfortunately, Kim was caught climbing the gates and got a good scolding from Monsieur Bourgeois about ‘manners’ and ‘etiquette’.” Alix said with her arms folded.

“And a pay cut!” Rose cried with watery eyes. 

“Psh, it’s no big deal.” Kim chimed in. “Even a cut in pay here is enough to support my family.”

Marinette smiled as the group chit chat among themselves, feeling grateful that she had such wonderful friends. Alya then leaned in close to the other woman. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Was it magical?”

Marinette thought the night over, thinking of the many gowns she saw, the elegance of the Agreste estate, and the stranger she danced with. The thought of him made her blush. The scene of him glowing under the moonlit night sky, music playing from inside the mansion, the dance she shared with him. The memory made her smile.

“That’s a good sign!” Alya referred to Marinette’s smile. “Tell me about it!”

“Later,” Marinette put up her hand. “Right now I want to get out of this gown and wash my face.”

Alya nodded and followed the seamstress to her room while the rest of the staff went about their night, some heading to bed and others staying up to greet the mistress when she came home. As she made her way into her room, Marinette continued to think about the man she had met tonight. He seemed to come out of a dream, beautiful and charming. She had no idea how this meeting would affect her life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been forever! im inspired once again to get back to my seamstress au and i hope u guys are still on board with this au ^^ 
> 
> sorry this chapter is so short, especially since its been so long, but i hope the next chapter will be longer! and hopefully it wont take as long for me to post it haha
> 
> i drew a little scene where ladybug "revealed" her name wayy back when i first thought of the au, u can see it here ^^  
> https://mikoriin.tumblr.com/post/186347681265/ladybug-shes-a-dream-french-masquerades

**Author's Note:**

> this is for my seamstress au on tumblr and instagram! i dont know how long this fic is going to be, but i want to have fun with it and i hope you all enjoy it as well! ^^


End file.
